


Other Stories

by gaygreekgladiator (ama)



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Prostitution, Sickfic, excerpt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/gaygreekgladiator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castus seeks out his favorite whore, only to find the boy sick and in need of comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Stories

**Author's Note:**

> A few days ago, I started coming up with this vague headcanon about Castus having a really intense love affair with a prostitute and eventually having to break it off because of the circumstances. The OMC would be his One True Love, of course, but being forever lonely isn’t what Castus would want or what his love would want for him, and one of the reasons Castus was so struck by Nasir at first was because he reminded him of this OMC, Shai. This little drabble is practice for that longer fic.

When Castus entered the whorehouse, the other pirates dispersed almost immediately. Some to the gambling table, some to the jugs of wine left on the table in the center of the room, most to the knot of whores who stood together, gossiping and casting sultry looks at any who wandered by. He remained where he stood, so he could best survey the room.

It had been almost a full year since first Heracleo began to favor this brothel, and bring his crew here. Three times they had visited, and Castus had favored one boy since the moment he entered. Shai—a Syrian with black, wavy hair fallen almost to his waist, a smattering of dark freckles over his cheeks, and sharp eyes that froze the blood in his veins. He was teased and taunted mercilessly for it, of course, but the thought of choosing any other when Shai was there was intolerable, and his eyes roamed over the bodies on display, hoping to find the one he sought.

After a moment, he spied Shai, already moving towards him with a small, enigmatic smile on his lips, and he grinned. He stepped forward to approach the boy and then—with alarm—strode forward fast enough to catch him as he wavered and fell.

“Fetch a drink,” he ordered to one of the girls standing by. He looked down at Shai, concerned, and was relieved to see dark eyes staring back. He was not unconscious, then, and a quick glance was enough to ascertain that he was not wounded.

“Apologies…”

“I have been greeted better,” Castus joked, with a smile. The girl returned with watered wine, and he held the cup to Shai’s lips. “Drink.”

“I told him he was ill,” the girl said, clucking her tongue.

“It is nothing,” Shai mumbled, though his voice wavered. “A moment of dizziness—I am well.”

“And will fare better, when you have lain down,” Castus said gently.

He tightened his grip on the Syrian, and carefully led him into his private room, separated from the common area by a worn blue curtain. Few noticed as they passed, and thankfully he saw no sign of Shai’s dominus. He doubted that the boy would be expected to continue working—men generally did not desire whores whom they knew would make them sick—but it was better to avoid confrontation.

Shai acquiesced readily enough when Castus bade him to sit on the bed, but would not be coaxed to lie down.

“Do not worry for me,” he insisted. “Go, gamble with your brothers, indulge in drink, and I will join you shortly. Or find another boy if you wish,” he said, a wry smile on his lips. “I am not ignorant as to your intentions in venturing here, and mothering me is not among them.”

His words struck a chord; Castus felt his cheeks heat, and his heart beat more strongly in his chest. A few strands of long, dark hair stuck to Shai’s forehead, and he brushed them away as he pressed a soft kiss to the skin there. It was hot with fever, and he frowned.

“My brothers claim my attention at sea; other boys in other cities. My purpose in coming here is to see  _you_. As it has been for many months now.”

The red tint to Shai’s face may have been fever, or it may have been pleasure. There was no way to know, but the slight softening of his lips indicated the latter. Castus smiled and kissed the tip of the boy’s nose. Then he lay down himself, stretching lazily over the freshly-laundered sheets. As he hoped, Shai followed his example, lying on his back and tilting his head slightly to keep Castus in view.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Since last I saw you.”

His voice was stronger than before, the wine having roused him, and Castus relaxed. Fever had not made him incoherent, or too weak to move. Like as not, it was the oppressive heat of the main room and poor food that had caused him to fall. It was summer. The whole city was cramped, hot, and dirty, and he would not be the first one to succumb to passing illness. Castus would remain here, this night, to ensure that he rest, and perhaps the next as well. For now, he turned thoughts to other matters.

This was a long-standing habit of theirs; Shai had never seen a map, nor would be able to read one, but he had a good imagination and a head for numbers. Castus lightly touched his navel—that was Cilicia.

“As far west as Carthage,” he said, touching the boy's sternum. “North as Rome.” His left armpit. “Though we were most frequently in Alexandria.” His fingers formed a light circle at the bottom of Shai’s ribs, on the right side. “The Romans fear the water, and none dare to sail in the winter. With the coming of spring, though, the winds are favorable, and many took to the seas for business or pleasure in Egypt. Heracleo was pleased with our takings.”

“When I was a boy—” Shai said thoughtfully, and stopped when Castus snorted. “What?”

“ _When_. As opposed to now, when you are—”

“A man, by age even if face does not display it,” he said, tugging playfully at the scratchy hair on Castus’s chin. He looked huffy, and Castus leaned forward to kiss him again. It was probably not wise, and Heracleo would rebuke him soundly if he caught ill, but the look was simply too endearing. “I am in my nineteenth summer,” Shai continued when he pulled away. “Though I would not expect you to acknowledge such, seeing as you did not get me anything for my birthday.”

“My dove, my treasure, my dearest,” Castus teased, feigning shock. “Greatest of apologies. When next I visit, I will bring along the finest gems and metals of the sea.”

“Am I supposed to trust the word of a pirate?” Shai asked, eyebrows raised.

“Trust the word of one who cares for you,” Castus suggested. His voice was low, and his hand was brushing soothingly up and down the curve of Shai’s neck. “More than any other.”

On another night, he would not have dared to speak such words. Shai… well, he would not have wanted to hear them. Castus could see it in his eyes, which rose to meet his when they flashed with pleasure and amusement, and turned aside when confronted with tenderness. The boy’s face was often hard to read, but Castus had become expert in examining the curve of his cheek, the faintest flicker of his lips, the alternating boldness and diffidence in his movements.

He watched now as Shai picked distractedly at a loose thread of the sheets. After a moment, his fingers twitched as though to brush it away. His eyes closed, and he curled closer into Castus’s body. Fever had made him vulnerable, and tired.

“An easy task,” he mumbled. Castus kissed the top of his head, and did not know what to say. “When I was a boy, my mother told me stories of Alexandria,” he continued after a moment. “She lived there for a time. Her friend was a priestess… she knew all the most exciting people of the city, and kept a cat with a moonstone collar.”

“I have a cat,” Castus said idly. “Magister. He finds the wearing of a collar to be an insult, though I doubt he would object to moonstones.”

“Mm. What else?”

“What else?”

“What other stories have you not told me?”

“We have known each other for a very short time. There are many stories I have not found occasion to share.”

“Share them now,” Shai ordered with a shrug.

“Illness has made you commanding,” Castus chuckled.

“You say such, as though you will not gladly obey.”

 _I will_ , Castus thought immediately.  _And he knows it_. His hands drifted lazily over the hot, bare skin of Shai’s back, and without knowing which tale he intended to spin, he began to speak in a soft voice, audible only to the boy in his arms.


End file.
